Years
by Elektra101
Summary: You play this game, where the one asks for truth and the other fulfils that wish.


_Had it in my mind, hope you like it. _

_Year One_

You realize that your mission is a lot more than you imagined. America, in your mind, had seemed like a horrible place where people only want to hurt each other. In reality, the old couple next-door invite you over for dinner every week because they think you're sweet and want to help you get settled into a new city. They remind you of an old fairytale where grandparents bake cookies when their many grandchildren come to visit.

The thing that surprises you the most is Jack Bristow. He has been a true gentleman from day one, when he helped you pick up the tons of English literature book that you purposely dropped on his toes. Surprisingly you like that quality about him.

You like _him_.

You remind yourself that your supervisors told you that it would be normal to develop some form of liking towards your mark. At that time you had laughed at that. Now you tell yourself that you wouldn't survive this mission otherwise. It's not a lie.

Is it?

You find yourself waiting towards the Saturday mornings when both of you have two whole free days and spend them together, mostly in his bedroom. Besides the obvious activity, the two of you talk and you like the slight challenge every conversation is.

Over the last two months you have been playing this game when one of you asks the other something true about them. You ignore the irony of that.

"Tell me something true." You're lying half on top of him with your head pillowed on his chest. His hand is softly raking through your long hair and you couldn't lie for your life at this point.

"I like your smile." You raise your head from its position to look at him. The smile in question widens and you lean down to kiss it away before you start feeling guilty. It's a feeling you're not accustomed to and you don't like it.

It's too late.

_Year Two_

Apparently romance and chivalry aren't completely dead. He sometimes brings you chocolate or roses, without a specific reason. When you ask him about it, he just smiles and kisses you.

That's all the answer you need.

You feel cherished and think that no one has ever treated you with this much respect. Every day you regret silently that you were born on different sides of the iron curtain. Still, you've got a job to do.

But sometimes you wonder what would have happened if you were American.

He's often away on business trips and you can tell that he feels guilty about it. Laura says she understands. Irina, the spy feels accomplished. You stand somewhere between them, not really figuring out which one you are more. So you settle in between: you do your job, but cherish moments with Jack, knowing they are counted.

_Year Three_

You're a newly wed and you like it. Jack treats you as a queen, but inside you start to loathe yourself. Maybe it's due to all the books you read, where wives don't steal national secrets when their husbands fall asleep.

He told you where he worked when the two of you were engaged. Irina's job became easier. Laura's guilt mounted.

Sometimes when he's away, you find yourself on his side of the bed in the morning, wondering how you got there. You refuse to admit that you miss him when he is away.

It's not acceptable.

_Year Four_

You're pregnant. The feeling is all new. Actually there are a lot of feelings inside you that you can't tell apart. The only clear one is fear. You tell your handler that a child would ensure Jack's blind belief in you. You tell him if Jack ever doubted anything about you, a child would erase all of them.

He smiled and you got to keep your baby. At least until you have to leave.

No one will ever know your true feelings. No one will know you lied to the KGB, because you still lie to yourself and say that you don't love him.

The only thing you don't lie to yourself is the feeling towards your baby. You feel as excited as terrified. You can't wait to see what he or she looks like and hope that he or she never becomes anything like you. No one should have that kind of punishment.

You tell your husband the truth: you want this child.

_Year Five_

Being a mother is as difficult as being an agent. Sometimes you want to bang your head against the wall, but when Sydney smiles at you, everything ceases to exist. She's your child and you love her unconditionally. You refuse to think about the time when you have to leave, because it will break your heart.

After Jack realized that Sydney isn't going to break in his arms, he spends every minute he can with her. He even sings lullabies to her. You believe he'll be a great father, even when you're gone.

And you stopped lying to yourself: you admit that you love him. But you keep that to yourself.

_Year six_

You watch with pride as Sydney takes her first steps, no matter how shaky they are. You still won't admit that there were tears in your eyes when she said "Mama!" and giggled.

You can't believe you are so happy.

Jack says: "She's just like you, Laura." You hope she truly will be like Laura. Because no one should be like Irina. No one deserves that kind of cruelty.

Every time he says, "I love you, Laura," makes your heart drop. Silently you wish he'd say Irina. You keep that to yourself.

You can't pinpoint the moment when Laura stopped professing her love to Jack and when Irina began. You know that one day he'll curse the day you were born and believe everything you said was a lie.

But you know better. You love him.

_Year seven_

The two of you still continue that game. It has become a place where no lies come over your lips. You tell that you broke your left arm at six when you were skating on a pond. You tell him about the first time you kissed somebody. You tell him about the rare times when you baked together with your mother. You tell him you miss your mother.

He knows that there was a car crash and she's dead. You hope she still alive.

Sydney has taken upon herself to disturb the intimate moments you and Jack share. You always manage to spare her eyes and guide her back to her room.

You hope that she doesn't need therapy in the future. You and Jack start taking longer showers together.

_Year Eight_

Your handler starts talking about extraction. You tell him very professionally that there's more to discover and he agrees, although he worries about your feeling towards your family. You laugh with him at that, inside restraining yourself from strangling him.

When he touches your shoulder, you keep yourself from flinching because you know what he's thinking. You exit quickly without raising suspicion and hope he doesn't have those same intentions the next time you meet.

_Year Nine_

You know that the time to leave is getting closer and closer. You try to burn every little thing to memory. How Sydney squeals when she opens Christmas presents. How she hugs you every morning. How Jack's kisses feel. How the two of you watch a movie together in the evenings or how he holds you when you're sleeping.

You forget the times when you do your job and concentrate on the family you never really had. You think of defecting but dismiss that idea for the danger.

And Jack would never forgive you for that. You see the passion he loves you with and you're aware that he can hate with the same kind of passion. You couldn't bear to see him hate you. And you despise yourself for that kind of selfishness.

_Year Ten_

You know that the time of your extraction is a matter of months, weeks or even days. You try to get used to the idea but you can't. You feel an irrational wish to cry. You stifle the sobs but somehow the tears won't go away. Jack is confused and tries to comfort you.

You tell him that you're fine and curse yourself for not being more careful.

You pour all the emotions into your kisses and hope that some day he'll understand. The nagging feeling says, he won't. You hug Sydney and Jack more tightly every day and fear meeting your handler, terrified of the moment when he says that your mission is over.

You know that you'll physically survive leaving them, but your soul will never return when you leave.

Hoping that you've repeated that you love them enough times and that they will move on.

_Year Eleven _

Although you were aware that you'd be extracted, you weren't ready for it. You cried the whole way to the bridge, but survived. There were all expected feelings: despair, terror and you could swear you hear your heart breaking. You did not expect this though: prison.

You thought that there would be extensive debriefs after which you'd be given time before returning to duty. You prepared yourself for that. Yes, there were long debriefs but after that they subdued you and brought you here, to their version of hell.

There isn't a place on your body that doesn't hurt from beatings, malnutrition and dehydration. They laugh at you and unfortunately you don't have any way of retaliating. You do envision yourself killing them. Each and every one of them. But you have to survive this place first.

The next day, when they come to your cell, you think you really might die in this place after all.

_Year Twenty_

You didn't die, though. They weren't that merciful to you. But after eight months of that place, there wasn't much left of you. Half dead physically, and you are sure that you don't have a soul anymore.

How could you, anyway? Nothing is sacred to you anymore and you keep everyone away from you. Emotions can only hurt and so you stopped feeling. You vowed to yourself you'd never let anyone close to you. You can't do that to them or to yourself.

Tracking down every bastard from that God-forsaken place gave you an objective for some time but now you're without a purpose again. That will soon kill you, so finding a new agenda is crucial.

You decide on Rambaldi. And become The Man.

_Year Thirty-One_

Rambaldi wasn't such a great idea. You became disillusioned and almost became a monster. Still, you nearly escaped that. Seeing that your daughter has been caught up in the same profession as you, although on the other side, you felt aghast that you couldn't stop that.

You saw what your departure did to Jack and wish that you had had more courage twenty years before. He didn't deserve that. He should have had more than that. More than you.

You smirked at him from your glass cell and fought with him on the train to India. Inside you repressed all the shudders you felt when you walked down the familiar corridors, where you were nearly killed. Once again, you walked away from that place. But then you walked away from your family once again in Panama. You wish you had killed Sloane then.

Now your daughter is dead and you wish it were you instead of her. Jack finds you in Paris and you strike a deal to get revenge on your daughter's murderers. You wish you could give her more.

Strangely Jack wants to talk to you and you see glimpses of the man you knew from underneath that wall of anger and grief. One morning you are together in England. Your lying on his chest and try to normalise your breath as Jack does the same. He asks you something you don't expect.

"Tell me something true."

You stay silent for a long time and he gives up on receiving an answer. You can almost feel him starting to tense up. You lift yourself so that you could look him in the eye. And speak the truth.

"I loved you." Maybe telling the truth was the only way to heal just a little, so you give him another truth. "I still love you."

You feel suddenly very vulnerable, so you try to leave, but he holds you back. And then smiles the same smile you love before pulling you low enough so he could kiss you.

**The End**


End file.
